Moonlight
by Hedari
Summary: "My life is a lie. Your life is a lie. Hope belongs to those who are weak. Love? There's no such thing." A short story about the legendary Uchiha and someone who won't change his view on life. But he will change hers. MadaraXOC/two-shot/lemon. Cover credit goes to eagiel. Check eagiel deviantART and find much more great stuff. :3
1. Chapter 1

I firmly stepped towards an old two-storey house not too far from the village centre. The bleak sky caught my gaze and I lifted my head – the full moon, bathed in deep crimson, was shining down on me, covering my figure in cold faint light. The wind which thrashed around harshly all day finally died down, as if someone sang it a soft lullaby and put it to soundless sleep. A nightingale chirped its fragile melody. What a naive bird. The song reached the hawk which was circling in the darkness, anxious to find its prey. The hunt will begin soon, but the night is still young.

I opened the door only to be met by many different voices, mostly ones which belonged to men. The place with tables was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere, but the stage was bright and colourful. Three women sat there, smiling and holding some traditional instruments. Vivid kimonos were wrapped around their bodies and white paint hid their true faces. Dolls. Pathetic.

I inhaled the air. The scent of vanilla and alcohol was strong, almost heady. The strings of shamisen were touched and refreshing music filled my ears. My muscles relaxed slowly, melting to the elegant sound.

The smell of vanilla… The voice of shamisen.

_'Hello,'_ a soft voice spoke to me and I glanced to my right.

A geisha stood beside me, her fingers locked together gracefully, a fake smile playing on the blood red lips. Her eyes sank into mine for a few seconds, then looked away, seeking to keep the mystery between us.

_'Would you like to sit down and have something to drink?'_ She asked me quietly and I only nodded, not impressed with the falseness she was giving me.

Her make-up couldn't hide the wrinkles in her face or at least I could see them. The lure in her voice didn't captivate me at all.

An old geisha. Probably the mistress of this house. Experienced one. Nothing worth to keep my eyes on.

The woman accompanied me to the table across from the right side of the stage. The view from here seemed good enough, so I sat down.

The presence of this old geisha was irritating.

_'Sake please,'_ I muttered and she bowed to me, still smiling sweetly.

She left.

_'Did you hear about Madara Uchiha…?'_

I turned slightly. Two men sat not too far from me.

_'He killed fifty man all on his own!'_ The bald-headed one spoke again._ 'Don't you think he is too dangerous for Konoha?'_

His companion, a man with thick black beard, nodded.

_'You're right. If he decides to go against our village, this might cause us trouble. That Uchiha clan is too unpredictable. Hokage should take full control of it, damn!'_

The following conversation wasn't interesting anymore.

Foolishness is a weakness. Fools should be slaughtered, one by one.

This world is foolish.

_'Here's your sake, mister.'_

A bottle and a cup was placed on my table. The geisha from before leaned in, pouring some drink to me. I took it from her hands.

_'May I know your name?'_ She asked me, kneeling down by my side.

_'I believe that's none of your concern.'_

_'As you wish, sir.'_

Five geishas appeared on the stage. Two of them were holding shamisens while the other three had large neat fans in their hands. They were going to dance. The audience clapped and the show began.

I have found her. She was standing in the far left. The moves of her pure fair hands were refined and light, like the voice of a nightingale. Her distant eyes were closed, only dark eyelashes quivered gently from time to time. The paint on her face didn't stood out much because her features were naturally beautiful. Just perfect and flawless. Her hair was long and raven black, with a flower hairpin at the side. Her flexible slender frame was hidden by a deep crimson kimono with a white floral print and black obi. She stretched her arm.

What a beauty. Like a serene work of art, created by the most talented painter. The smell of vanilla and the voice of shamisen, it all belonged to her.

I need to hear her voice. It must be like silk.

Vanity and plenitude. Fragility and eternity. I need to feel her. I need to break her. I need to...

_'Shiori-san is new here,'_ the woman next to me explained calmly. _'She's inexperienced and her price is high.'_

I stared at her emptily. The displeasure in her sickly sweet tone was obvious. I felt disgust cling to my throat. It felt heavy.

Anticipation was seeping to my brain. My muscles tensed again.

_'It doesn't matter. How much?'_

I eyed that girl again. The dance has ended and she caught my gaze for a mere second.

**Shiori's P.O.V**

I felt someone's intent eyes land on me.

It was him. Definitely him.

He was majestic and noble. The way he sat there, so proudly and firmly, gave him away. His long midnight dark hair fell on his red shiny armor which matched the same coloured eyes. Those eyes... Emotionless, but somehow uncomfortable stare told me many things I couldn't understand. It felt like he could see right through me. And pale lips, forming a straight line. Sharp cheekbones.

The face of a warrior. Would I be able to forget it? I don't think so. The face of hatred and proficiency. Everything around him blurred as I couldn't look away. My heart beat faster and faster with every moment, as if it was the last struggle before death.

He said something to the mistress beside him and she answered. His expression didn't change at all and he whispered a few words again. His orbs kept drawing me in.

He was giving her money.

The lights, colours, smell of sake and his presence... My mind was twisting and ripping apart.

The full bloody moon was shining, engulfing me in flames.


	2. Chapter 2

**Madara's P.O.V**

I watched her walk slowly to my side. Her pace was easy and floaty. It almost seemed like her feet didn't reach the ground. The mistress talked to her. She wasn't smiling, just like I expected. She didn't have to.

Her orbs were a dark shade of ocean blue. Almost black, but not fully. Just like the waves in a stormy night. This color matched her perfectly.

The silk of her red kimono glistened in the candle light.

_'Good evening, sir,'_ she bowed down to me slightly before looking deep into my eyes, holding no emotion, only this calmness that captured my attention. _'My name is Shiori. I am very honored to be able to entertain you tonight.'_

Her voice was delicate, more enjoyable than anything. Comparing to her, all this place suddenly felt filthy and obscure.

_'Follow me,'_ I ordered and she obeyed, with no questions at all.

We went up the stairs. The sounds, scents and visions were getting fainter and fainter and soon they left us completely alone.

The room was small and simple. There was a big window, a door to the bathroom and a bed prepared for us on the floor. Two candles were glowing in the corner, enough to illuminate our shadowy figures. A bottle of sake was standing next to them.

I let her in and closed the door behind us.

**Shiori's P.O.V**

My hands were shaking slightly and I did my best to hide them.

Fear was a strange beast. It gripped my throat tightly, but not tight enough for me to die or even lose my consciousness. It let me go as soon as my eyes closed.

I stood against the wall, watching the man take off his armor. It looked heavy. It's probably difficult to carry on your shoulders. A burden.

His silhouette reminded me of a willow lost in a tempest. Its moves were abrupt and bitter. The black mass of his hair was swaying from left to right.

From left to right…

_'Sit.'_

I did as I was told and knelt down. The man sat against the wall with the window, leaning his back on it. One of his legs was brought up against his chest, the other one was laying on the floor loosely.

His lean face looked up to the ceiling. The light made his skin look as white as snow. It was smooth. Not a single scratch or a wound, just like I would expect from a warrior.

I took the bottle of sake and poured a few sips of the spicy drink to a cup, putting it in front of the man.

He stared at it emptily. His red eyes had some odd black pattern in them. It was strangely enticing with that danger and bloodlust hiding deep in it.

Crimson… Were those eyes soaked in the blood of his enemies? I didn't know. But I had this thought and it sent a shiver down my spine.

He gazed at me, trying to find his way through my soul which felt transparent in front of him.

His long and slender fingers touched the cup.

_'I like poetry,'_ I whispered quietly, trying to break the tense silence. _'The writer sends you a message through a poem. It can reveal the darkest secrets of the world. Or the happiest memories. It's amusing.'_

**Madara's P.O.V**

She spoke very lightly. Her tone was softer than the silk of the kimono.

I stared at her and she stared at me. Her body, kneeling down in front of me, felt comfortable.

_'The happiest memories... I don't have those.'_

Very invisibly, Shiori's eyes widened. She tilted her head to the side.

_'That is impossible,'_ she answered. _'Everyone can experience happiness, no matter how unfair your life is.'_

My lips curved into a smirk, one filled with sympathy for her. Untrue sympathy. Untrue smirk.

Untrue happy memories.

_'Your happiness is another person's hate. Humans, who experience pain, will feel a need to crush your happiness, so it won't last long,'_ I said quietly. _'And your happiness will become your weakness. If you want to survive, you must stay balanced, no matter what.'_

She kept quiet for a while, then let out a small smile, brushing something off from the sleeve of her dress. This face expression somehow changed her. It made her look more human... More feeble.

_'Even if it's only a moment...'_ She spoke again, gazing through the window behind me. Her eyes looked tranquil._ 'It's still happiness, isn't it?'_

Her simplicity was awakening my desire. I felt the need to show her what reality is.

**Shiori's P.O.V**

His stare was so intent that my head was getting dizzy. Or was it fear again? Maybe his gaze was my fear?

It doesn't matter. He will see more of me. He will touch more of me...

_'That's foolish,'_ he muttered with a note of spite in his voice and I shuddered once again.

But there was something more in his tone...

_'Come here,'_ he commanded me.

Yes, I was afraid of his lust. My body froze and I wished I couldn't understand what he meant. But I did.

I finally forced myself to crawl to the man slowly, till I was against his chest. His strong arm wrapped itself around my waist. It was stronger than I imagined.

There was no choice but to look at his eyes. So mesmeric...

The bloody moon with a black pattern. Engulfing flames. A battle you can't win. Your battle which you can only watch from afar.

I was lost and there was no way out. His face held nothing, yet his eyes proved me more than I wish I knew. No trace of a happy memory... Only power and destructiveness.

_'What's wrong?'_ He asked me, a hint of sarcasm was clear.

His grip on me tightened as I felt the darkness itself put its claws on me. No, it wasn't his darkness… It was the mirror of society. The mirror of the world we live in.

The man's lips leaned to my ear. His breathing was calm while mine was getting rapid.

I inhaled the scent of his black hair, brushing against my face. The fragrance of earth, wind and water. Temptation of the woods. The danger you want to feel. Dark long night.

He touched my neck.

**Madara's P.O.V**

Her skin was burning against my lips, tracing her perfect jaw, cheek and finally mouth. It was soft and delicious. It tasted like vanilla. The kiss hardened and she shifted slighty, letting out a silent muffled moan. I used this moment to slip my tongue in her warm cave, roaming it passionately. A string of hot saliva ran down her elegant chin.

The atmosphere was getting more and more violent. Shiori moaned again.

_'Where is your happiness?'_ I asked her, ravishing her sweet lips with mine._ 'Even if you talked about it, I can't sense it at all.'_

She turned her head to the side, giving me an access to her collarbone. The silk was pushed to the side as I craved for more of her body. Her hands were against my chest, as if she was trying to stop me. The woman was trembling in my arms.

Being mine was her duty. No, it didn't matter if it was me. She could be anyone's. How could she talk about happiness then? There's no such thing.

_'I have… A d-dream…'_ She whispered quietly, her voice cracking because of our touches. _'I want to become… A p-poet…'_

I grunted quietly, ripping the top part of her kimono to reveal her satin breasts, so round and perfectly shaped, just made to be fondled. She yelped slighty at my rough movements.

_'Then why?'_ I muttered, getting closer to the place where her heart was beating.

Reality… Dream…

Reality…

_'Why don't you seek for your dream? Isn't it a tool to reach your so called happiness?'_

**Shiori's P.O.V**

He was mocking me.

The feel of his fingers stroking my breasts was unbearable. My body twisted from side to side as he groped them, pulling on my nipples, waiting for my reaction and answer.

Answer… I could barely talk. My insides were heating.

The moon was shining through the window, straight at us. It was gazing at me. It was judging me.

Seek for your dream…

What am I doing?

Father… Mother… Happiness… I forgot all about it.

I realized. I can't relate myself to a poem about felicity. The sunlight, flowers, snow… It's not the happiness I need. I was deceiving myself, thinking that I can feel joy living my life like that.

My body was sold to a man. A whore poet can't exist.

_'Look at me.'_

My back was pushed to the floor. The man was holding my shoulders firmly, his merciless gaze locked on mine. I was naive. I was foolish. He is right.

Our lips melted together again, this time into more forceful kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer.

The fresh smell of forests… I wanted it. I needed to escape.

_'K-Kiss me… Kiss me m-more,'_ I whispered and it turned out like a plea.

I need to escape… Escape…

**Madara's P.O.V**

The sun of Shiori's eyes was setting. She was begging for me and a low growl escaped my lips.

The rest of her dress vanished quickly and the woman let out a deep sigh. Her figure was ideal and untouched by anyone. Her lean fingers were caressing her own arms, as if she wanted to shield herself, but it turned me on even more. Her curves were inviting.

I kissed her fiercely again and she returned me with the same need, moaning softly. I ran my hand between her legs, feeling goosebumps on her skin, all caused by me.

I want her.

She cringed under me as I held her tight.

I inserted two fingers to her moisty folds. Shiori was dripping wet. I didn't let her eyes slip away. I wanted to see her cry out in pain and pleasure and she already did from my hand moving a bit further.

_'P-Please…'_

Her tone was even softer than before. The sound of her heavy breathing was strangely affecting me, like the best aphrodisiac. Her half-lidded blue orbs…

_'T-Take me…'_

Another groan escaped my lips. There was no time to waste.

This is our reality. Dreaming is foolish and unnecessary.

I won't let her dream.

**Shiori's P.O.V**

The clink of his unlocking belt. Candle's flame wavered, casting our shadows on the brown wall dance grotesquely.

My legs were spread apart.

_'Madara Uchiha,'_ he whispered to my ear huskily and I moaned, just from his manly voice. Something pushed slightly to my womanhood. _'You won't forget this name.'_

He thrusted into me roughly, not giving me time to adjust to his size. His pounds were quick and deep, hitting me to the core.

Tears flowed down my cheeks. The smell of iron. I cried out, grasping on his shoulders.

This pain was severe. This pain forgave me for my sins. I was thankful, even if it hurt badly.

Happiness… I want to be one with this man. Don't let me go.

_'Shiori…'_ He grunted and I planted kisses on the side of his face, feeling the taste of my tears.

_'Madara… M-Madara-sama… Ahh!'_

Could this be pleasure? It came crashing like a wave, sweeping away the pain. I stared at the man wide eyed, but shut my eyes closed as he thrusted into a certain spot, almost sending me over the edge.

Why... Why was he giving me delight?

**Madara's P.O.V**

Shiori's loud voice and my silent groans filled the room as the window next to us was covered with a thin cloud of mist, created by our act.

All the emotions fit into the woman's flushed face – despair, need, pleasure, pain... She was vulnerable, her spirit was exposed to me and no one will be able to see it again.

_'Say my name once more, Shiori.'_

_'Madara-sama...'_

My pace slowed down and she writhered at the lost of intensity.

_'Once more.'_

_'Madara-sama...! P-Please... Continue...'_

Her hands cupped my face, making it turn to her. Shiori's eyes held affection for me. I was her prove that she really exists. Nothing more was needed.

Once again I pounded her deeply, spreading sweat over our skin which was inseperable. Her tightness was leading me to ecstasy and she was close to climaxing too.

Our tongues joined in the last battle as I brought her even closer to me.

_'Ahhh!'_ Shiori's voice rang finally and she came, shaking heavily, crying out my name.

I thrusted for the last time, spilling my seed in her. She arched her back, meowling in a tender voice and fell back to the bed, breathing heavily.

I laid beside her, still keeping my arm around her waist.

**Shiori's P.O.V**

His part was now inside of me.

The candle died down and it was now completely dark, except the moonlight coming through the window. It was looking at us with huge silver orbs full of love. No more judging. Our bodies were tired.

Madara wasn't sleeping. He was gazing at the moon, just like me. Our black hair was tossled on the floor and each other. It almost looked like we were swallowed by night.

Madara-sama's scent was inspiring. I wanted to write, but sleep pulled me in and I couldn't resist.

* * *

I'm not sure but I think that he made love to me a few more times that night. Or was it a dream? No, it was reality. I know it. I still feel his fingers on my body. The mightiness of this man will stay in my heart forever.

* * *

The next morning I woke up, he was already gone. A huge amount of money was left by my side.

I have never seen him again.

* * *

I quit being a geisha. I became a poet.

The name of Madara's daughter was Yukiko.

Thank you.


End file.
